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Full text of "The Letters Of Horace Walpole Vol I"

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266                     To Horace Mann                    [1742
'For many a bad season, through many a bad way, Old Orford I've driven without stop or stay.
He was overturn'd, I confess, but not hurt;'
Quoth the Peers—' It was we help'd him out of the dirt;
This boon to thy master then prithee requite,
Take us up or else here we must wander all night.'
He took them both up, and thro' thick and thro' thin, Drove away to St. James's, and brought them safe in; Learn hence, honest Britons, in spite of your pains, That Orford old coachman still governs the reins.
The country girl that's well inclin'd,
To love, when the young squire grows kind,
Doubts between joy and ruin; Now will, and now will not comply, To raptures now her pulse beats high,
And now she fears undoing.
But when the lover with his pray'rs, His oaths, his sighs, his vows and tears,
Holds out the proffer'd treasure; She quite forgets her fear and shame, And quits her virtue and her fame,
For profit mixt with pleasure.
So virtuous Pult'ney, who had long By speech, by pamphlet, and by song,
Held patriotism's steerage ; Yields to ambition mixt with gain, A treasury gets for Harry Vane,
And for himself a peerage.